Side Order of Love

by Unknown

  “Are you going to keep seeing her?”

  “I think so. Yeah.”

  Grace pointed beyond the kitchen at Catie and Torrie on the deck, their heads together. “Think they’re talking about us?”

  Trish chuckled. “God, I hope so.”

  Grace breathed in deeply, happier than she’d been in months. Maybe years. She wished things could just stay like this forever— the four of them, hanging out like teenagers with nothing better to do. No pressures, no demands, no complications, just loving one another with simplicity.

  “I don’t know about you,” Trish said, “but I could sure use some sleep today.”

  “God, me too.”

  “Why don’t we send those two away for awhile after breakfast so we can have a nap?”

  “What, you don’t think we can nap with them?”

  Trish rolled her eyes. “Not if we want to get any sleep.”

  “True.” There was always tonight, anyway.

  “Then I thought later this afternoon we could all take the ferry over to the mainland and have dinner at that new seafood restaurant. I’m dying to try it.”

  “Sure, that sounds great.” Grace nodded at Torrie and Catie on the deck. “Let’s go break the news to them that they’re going to be banished for a few hours.”

  The two couples shared two bottles of red wine over an orgy of lobster and mussels. The way Torrie kept looking at Grace, like she couldn’t wait to get her back into bed, almost made Grace say to hell with dinner. Sex with Torrie wasn’t just fun and exhilarating. It was quickly becoming the focal point of her existence.

  They were a little tipsy when they returned to the island, but not drunk. Grace had no intention of getting drunk and jeopardizing another exceedingly hot night in bed with Torrie. She’d need all her energy to keep up with her. They walked the mile or so from the ferry dock to Trish’s cottage as the last of the day’s light vanished, Torrie and Grace holding hands, Trish and Catie doing the same. Grace idly wondered how many times over the years the two cousins had walked these roads with girlfriends clutched at their sides, back when they used to run around the island like they owned it. She wished she’d known Torrie then, but when Torrie was sixteen, Grace was twenty-six and already serious about her culinary career. Torrie would have struck her as some smart ass, cocky kid, and Grace would not have seen the woman Torrie would become.

  A strange car was parked in Trish’s driveway, and they stopped to stare for a moment. There was a long-haired, shadowed figure sitting statue-like in the driver’s seat.

  “Who the hell is that?” Trish whispered.

  “I’ll go see,” Catie said.

  Before Catie could move, the car door suddenly snapped open and two long, bare legs emerged. Even in the dark, Grace knew exactly who it was, and her stomach clenched. Oh, Christ!

  It was Aly. She slammed the car door shut and stood stock-still, staring back at Grace, her expression unreadable in the dark.

  Grace was frozen in place. Her body didn’t seem to want to move, and her voice came out forced and strained. “Aly, what are you doing here?”

  Torrie’s hand tightened protectively around hers. Torrie’s presence gave her more strength than she could have imagined, and she needed it now, in her ex-lover’s unwelcome and unexpected presence.

  “Grace,” Aly answered weakly. She took a step forward. “Can I talk to you? Privately?”

  There was a subtle pleading in Aly’s voice, and Grace shifted uncomfortably. She knew the others were all staring at her, waiting for her next move. “I don’t think so, Aly.”

  Aly took another step closer, and Grace could see that she was as beautiful as ever, in spite of her pained expression. Grace didn’t think she had ever seen Aly this way before, looking so out of control, like a train wreck. “Please?”

  Torrie looked at Grace as she moved between the two women. “Grace, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I know,” Grace said, quickly making her decision. “It’s okay, Torrie.” She glanced at her friends and registered the disapproval in Trish’s face. “Really, it’ll be fine. Why don’t you guys go over to Connie’s for a while? I’ll come join you later.”

  Torrie put her hands on Grace’s shoulders, looking both disappointed and worried. “Are you sure, Grace?”

  “Yes.” Grace swallowed, not sure at all. But if Aly wanted to talk—really wanted to understand what had happened between them and why—Grace would give her that. Then they could say good-bye properly and she wouldn’t have to see Aly again.

  Torrie bent her head and kissed her thoroughly and possessively, making it patently clear to Aly that she was Grace’s past and that Torrie was the present and maybe—just maybe— her future as well. Grace had to admire Torrie’s gumption.

  Grace gave Torrie a final squeeze of assurance, then silently watched the three women disappear down the road. She almost called Torrie back.

  “Okay.” Grace glared at Aly. “I have to tell you that I’m not particularly thrilled that you’ve blindsided me like this.”

  “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t see any other way.”

  Grace supposed Aly had a point. She’d done a pretty good job of exorcising Aly from her life so far. She’d given Aly every indication that she hadn’t wanted to see or hear from her again, but that didn’t mean Aly didn’t need to talk. She had not given her that chance until now.

  Grace sighed and invited Aly to follow her inside. She slipped off her sandals and clicked on a few lights. She was unsure whether she should offer Aly a drink, not wanting to seem too welcoming, but her manners got the best of her.

  “Anything hard would be great,” Aly said.

  Remy came bounding out, and Aly recoiled in disgust. “Get away, you monster.” She kept turning away from him, trying to shoo him away at the same time. Grace tried not to laugh, secretly urging Remy on. Aly didn’t like dogs. They were too unpredictable with all their energy, not to mention dirty, she’d told Grace many times. She could never understand why Grace had a dog, and now Grace was glad it was another source of disagreement between them—another reason why they weren’t meant for each other.

  “Remy, go lie down,” Grace finally said before retrieving a bottle of Jack Daniels. She poured herself a glass of water while Aly filled her glass with the Tennessee whiskey.

  On the couch, Grace leaned forward on her elbows, wanting Aly to just get on with it and get the hell on her way. Thoughts of Torrie were making her more and more impatient to just be done with Aly and that part of her life.

  In an adjacent chair, Aly said nothing for a long moment. She sipped her drink, sighing loudly every now and again, looking everywhere but at Grace. Grace couldn’t quite read her emotions, but she looked like hell, as though she’d been drinking too much lately and not sleeping enough. She was rail thin and her complexion was shot.

  “You look like crap, Aly.”

  “Well, you should know, darling. You did this to me.”

  Grace’s anger sparked, then died just as quickly. It would be so easy to argue with Aly, to blame one another, but the idea of it was far too emotionally exhausting. “Look. This hasn’t been easy for me, either.”

  “You’re the one who left,” Aly said accusingly. “It’s always easier for the one who leaves.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Aly’s laughter was bitter, and it was as though Grace were really seeing her clearly for the first time. Her soul seemed only to be filled with blame and unqualified hurt. “I can see it didn’t take you long to get over us. I just never thought you’d go so butch, Grace. Jesus, I suppose you’re going to tell me she digs ditches for a living or something.”

  “Is this really why you came here, Aly? To insult me? Because if you did, you can leave right now.”

  “Oh, hell. Forget it.” She raised defeated eyes to Grace.“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just… I don’t understand things, Grace. I don’t understand why…” She dissolved into tears, and it occurred to Grace that she
’d never seen Aly cry before.

  Oh, shit. “Aly, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Honestly.”

  “What did you think would happen, Grace?” Aly’s voice hardened considerably, growing edgier with each syllable. “Did you really think you could just throw me away like a candy wrapper?”

  Grace buried her face in her hands for a moment. She was frustrated that Aly still had no clue why it had ended. “It wasn’t like that, Aly.”

  “Then what? Because I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  “It wasn’t working anymore, Aly.”

  “What? Of course it was working. We were fond of each other. We were good for each other. The sex was always fucking great. Christ, Grace, I could make you come like nobody else.”

  That part certainly wasn’t true anymore, and Aly seemed to recognize her error, her expression turning from startled to angry as realization dawned.

  “Look, Aly. It wasn’t working for me anymore, okay?”

  Aly guzzled the rest of her drink and refilled the glass. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me? Why did you just wait like that to drop the bomb?”

  Grace blew out an exasperated breath. She had tried to tell Aly many times—in the arguments about Tim, in the requests to slip out of town together, in the pleas to accompany her to appearances. But Aly wasn’t capable of understanding. Or she didn’t want to. She didn’t even know why she should try, except that she’d been brought up to finish what she started. She wanted closure now, and Aly obviously needed it too. “It was pretty clear over those three years that nothing was going to change between us.”

  “What do you mean, change between us? I thought everything was great.”

  “That’s the problem. It wasn’t. Jesus, Aly, I wanted more. You know that. Why do you think I wanted you to leave Tim? Why do you think I kept bugging you to spend more time with me?”

  Aly shook her head, resting her glass against her forehead like a pack of ice. She was being stubborn and choosing not to get it, just as she always did. “You knew what you were getting when you signed up with me, Grace.”

  “I didn’t sign up for anything, Aly. Sure, it was just sex and fun early on. But it changed for me. I wanted more than that. You just couldn’t give me more. That was why it was time for me to end it.”

  Aly was getting drunk. That was clear. She was drinking the whiskey like water and getting more sullen by the minute. “All right, so fucking string me up, why don’t you? Christ, Grace. I miss you. I want you back, okay? What more can I say?”

  “No,” Grace said quietly. “It’s too late.”

  “It’s not too late. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Grace shook her head, feeling more pity for Aly than anything. Aly had made absolutely no progress in their time apart. If anything, she had regressed. “Aly, I said it’s too late. There’s nothing I want from you anymore.”

  Aly wiped a tear, and Grace almost felt sorry for her. But she would not forget that Aly was the architect of her own misery.

  “Is it because of this woman you’re with?”

  This woman. No. Torrie hadn’t driven them apart. The biggest issue was Aly’s lack of commitment—had always been—and Grace told her so. Torrie had turned out to be the nice surprise in all this mess. More than a surprise. A gem.

  “Do you want me to leave Tim? Give up my career? Is that really what you want?” Aly looked miserable but desperate, like she just might do it. She’d looked nearly that scared once before when Grace almost left her. But of course, Aly had never gone through with it and neither had Grace. She wondered now what she’d ever seen in Aly in the first place—other than her superficial beauty and her bold desire for Grace. Only a faint shadow of the appeal Aly once held for her was still evident.

  “I don’t want you to do anything, Aly. Don’t you see that’s the problem? I never wanted to force you into doing anything you didn’t want to do. You never arrived at those conclusions yourself. You never wanted to make those changes yourself. And now I realize you’re not capable of it, Aly. It’s just not who you are.”

  Grace had been told many times by Aly that her marriage was crap, that she and Tim hardly talked or spent time together, that there was no sex. And yet Aly desperately hung on to her image of a perfect marriage, like an aging starlet who tries to look as she did in her heyday. It was all a cheap façade, but she just couldn’t let go of her life and all its trappings. It was sad.

  Aly began crying, quietly at first, then more wretchedly, like her insides were pouring out of her. It was distressing to watch. “I’m sorry, Aly,” Grace said hollowly, not knowing what else to say.

  Aly cried for a long time, still not convinced of what Grace was telling her—that it was too late for them, that Grace was no longer in love with Aly, if she ever really had been. It wasn’t that Aly was evil, but she had a lot of limitations, and Grace no longer wanted to live with those limitations. She no longer had the patience or desire or energy to coax a relationship from Aly. It was clear Aly missed what they’d had, but there was still no love in her eyes, and certainly not in her motivation.

  Grace reached over and stroked Aly’s arm, trying to give what little comfort she could. “Are you okay?”

  Aly shook her head futilely. She got up and wordlessly moved to the couch beside Grace. Once there, she snuggled into Grace, and Grace automatically slipped her arm around her shoulder.

  “Is there any chance we can work this out?” Aly asked, her words slurring and crashing into one another, like bumper cars.

  “No. I’m sorry, Aly.”

  “Then at least help me, Grace. You owe me that much.”

  Aly was wrong, Grace didn’t owe her a thing. But Grace owed herself a chance to undo some of what she’d done the last three years. She owed it to herself to take responsibility, to shoulder at least half the blame. Finally.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Torrie hadn’t been able to sleep. She’d paced the house like a nervous, caged animal, and ignored Catie’s and Trish’s pleas to calm down. She couldn’t be calm, not when things were falling apart, she told them. And they were falling apart. She was sure of it. She’d finally sent them off to bed, wanting to be alone with her fears and concern for Grace. She couldn’t understand what was taking so long, why Grace hadn’t come over yet.

  What the fuck are they doing over there? Was Grace okay, she wondered for about the millionth time. Should she go over and check? She’d stuck her head out the door a few times, but the neighborhood was quiet. It was a cowardly and powerless place for her. Aly’s appearance on the island had shaken Torrie. More than she would have thought. She couldn’t understand what Grace’s ex-lover could possibly want. Okay. She could. Aly undoubtedly wanted Grace back, and it scared the shit out of her.

  Finally, just after dawn broke, Torrie could no longer stand it. She marched over to Grace’s, still clad in last night’s clothes, determined to find out what was going on. And if Aly was still there, she decided she was going to throw her out on her ass. If Grace and Aly were going to get back together, it was damned well going to be somewhere other than on Torrie’s beloved island.

  Torrie’s stomach knotted at the sight of Aly’s rental car still in the driveway. Aly was still there, and the realization sent burning rockets of anger through her. Her imagination began to get the worst of her, thinking about Grace and Aly alone all these hours. She knew if it were her, she would do anything to get Grace back, including seduction and empty promises, if that was what it took. She had no doubt that Aly was the type of woman who would use anything in her arsenal to get Grace back. It made her panic.

  Just as Torrie was deciding what to do, Aly emerged from the house, looking like she’d just walked off the pages of a Neiman Marcus catalog—her clothes immaculate, her purse and jewelry the perfect accessories. When she noticed Torrie, she smiled enigmatically, her red-rimmed eyes taking only a second or two to register who Torrie was. She smirked in an ugly, arrogant way that made Torrie inst
antly want to throttle her.

  “You’re a little late,” Aly said, looking Torrie up and down. “A lot late, actually.”

  Torrie bristled, hating that she was getting drawn into a confrontation. Aly moved toward the car and Torrie automatically stepped away, the way one stepped away from a snake that was about to strike out.

  “We’re going to try to work things out, you know. Sorry for your luck.” Aly opened the car door and tossed a withering look at Torrie. “She’s free now if you want to say good-bye.”

  Torrie’s fists clenched by her side, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. She wanted to pound this woman, kick the shit out of her. But the car was already backing out of the driveway, and Torrie just stood there helplessly, feeling angry and hurt and useless. It was the worst betrayal. The worst pain she could imagine. She was in love with Grace. She’d been ready to commit to Grace, and yet Grace had so easily tossed her aside for this heartless woman from her past. How could you, Grace?

  Torrie shivered, rooted to where she stood. She was completely void inside, as though the life had just been sucked out of her.

  The screen door creaked open. Grace stepped onto the porch, looking exhausted.

  “Hey,” she said wearily. She looked drained. Maybe even a little guilty, Torrie imagined.

  Torrie stared at Grace, wordless. It hurt too much to try to talk, and besides, there was nothing Grace could say that would make her feel better. Nothing.

  Torrie turned and did the only thing that occurred to her. She bolted without a glance back.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Torrie hugged her knees to her chest against the chilling air. There was a front coming in, bringing colder air with it, and she was still in her shorts and T-shirt from last night. The tiny island, as usual, was all hers.

  The bobbing of the orange Zodiac was intensifying a little more, the waves slapping harder against the rubber sides, and she thought vaguely that she would need to get back soon. At the same time, a part of her really didn’t care if she got back. She’d lost Grace, and not much else mattered right now.